_Qu_. What shall I do? I must not here be found.
_Abd_. Oh, do not fear--no Cardinal enters here; No King--no God, that means to be secure-- Slaves guard the Doors, and suffer none to enter, Whilst I, my charming Queen, provide for your Security-- You know there is a Vault deep under Ground, Into the which the busy Sun ne'er enter'd, But all is dark, as are the Shades of Hell, Thro which in dead of Night I oft have pass'd, Guided by Love, to your Apartment, Madam-- They knock agen--thither, my lovely Mistress, [_Knock_.
Suffer your self to be conducted--
_Osmin_, attend the Queen--descend in haste, [Queen, Osm. _and_ Elv. _descend the Vault_.
My Lodgings are beset.
_Zar_. I cannot guard the Lodgings longer-- Don _Ordonio_, Sir, to seek the Queen--
_Abd_. How dare they seek her here?
_Zar_. My Lord, the King has swounded twice, And being recover'd, calls for her Majesty.
_Abd_. The King not dead!--go, _Zafrack_, and aloud Tell Don _Ordonio_ and the Cardinal, He that dares enter here to seek the Queen, [_Puts his Hand to his Sword_.
Had better snatch the She from the fierce side Of a young amorous Lion, and 'twere safer.-- Again, more knocking!-- [_Knocking_.
_Zar_. My gracious Lord, it is your Brother, Don _Alonzo_.
_Abd_. I will not have him enter--I am disorder'd.
_Zar_. My Lord, 'tis now too late.
_Enter_ Alonzo.
_Alon_. Saw you not the Queen, my Lord?
_Abd_. My Lord!
_Alon_. Was not the Queen here with you?
_Abd_. The Queen with me!
Because, Sir, I am married to your Sister, You, like your Sister, must be jealous too: The Queen with me! with me! a Moor! a Devil!
A Slave of _Barbary_! for so Your gay young Courtiers christen me--But, Don, Altho my Skin be black, within my Veins Runs Blood as red, and royal as the best.-- My Father, Great _Abdela_, with his Life Lost too his Crown; both most unjustly ravish'd By Tyrant _Philip_, your old King I mean.
How many Wounds his valiant Breast receiv'd E'er he would yield to part with Life and Empire: Methinks I see him cover'd o'er with Blood, Fainting amidst those numbers he had conquer'd.
I was but young, yet old enough to grieve, Tho not revenge, or to defy my Fetters: For then began my Slavery; and e'er since Have seen that Diadem by this Tyrant worn, Which crown'd the sacred Temples of my Father, And shou'd adorn mine now--shou'd! nay, and must-- Go tell him what I say--'twill be but Death-- Go, Sir,--the Queen's not here.
_Alon_. Do not mistake me, Sir,--or if I wou'd, I've no old King to tell--the King is dead-- And I am answer'd, Sir, to what I came for, And so good night.
[_Exit_.
_Abd_. Now all that's brave and villain seize my Soul, Reform each Faculty that is not ill, And make it fit for Vengeance, noble Vengeance.
Oh glorious Word! fit only for the Gods, For which they form'd their Thunder, Till Man usurp'd their Power, and by Revenge Sway'd Destiny as well as they, and took their trade of killing.
And thou, almighty Love, Dance in a thousand forms about my Person, That this same Queen, this easy Spanish Dame, May be bewitch'd, and dote upon me still; Whilst I make use of the insatiate Flame To set all _Spain_ on fire.-- Mischief, erect thy Throne, And sit on high; here, here upon my Head.
Let Fools fear Fate, thus I my Stars defy: The influence of this--must raise my Glory high.
[_Pointing to his Sword.
[Exit_.
SCENE II. _A Room in the Palace_.
_Enter_ Ferdinand _weeping_, Ordonio _bearing the Crown, followed by_ Alonzo, _leading_ Leonora _weeping_; Florella, Roderigo, Mendozo, _met by the_ Queen _weeping_; Elvira _and Women_.
_Qu_. What doleful Cry was that, which like the Voice Of angry Heav'n struck thro my trembling Soul?
Nothing but horrid Shrieks, nothing but Death; Whilst I, bowing my Knees to the cold Earth, Drowning my Cheeks in Rivulets of Tears, Sending up Prayers in Sighs, t' implore from Heaven Health for the Royal Majesty of _Spain_-- All cry'd, the Majesty of _Spain_ is dead.
Whilst the sad Sound flew through the ecchoing Air, And reach'd my frighted Soul--Inform my Fears, Oh my _Fernando_, oh my gentle Son-- [_Weeps_.
_King_. Madam, read here the truth, if looks can shew That which I cannot speak, and you wou'd know: The common Fare in ev'ry face appears; A King's great loss the publick Grief declares, But 'tis a Father's Death that claims my Tears.
[Card. _leads in the_ Queen _attended_.
_Leon_. Ah, Sir!
If you thus grieve, who ascend by what y'ave lost, To all the Greatness that a King can boast; What Tributes from my Eyes and Heart are due, Who've lost at once a King and Father too?
_King_. My _Leonora_ cannot think my Grief Can from those empty Glories find relief; Nature within my Soul has equal share, And that and Love surmount my Glory there.
Had Heav'n continu'd Royal _Philip's_ Life, And giv'n me bright _Florella_ for a Wife, [_Bows to_ Florella.
To Crown and Scepters I had made no claim, But ow'd my Blessings only to my Flame.
But Heav'n well knew in giving thee away, [_To_ Flor.
I had no bus'ness for another Joy. [_Weeps_.
The King, _Alanzo_, with his dying Breath, [_Turns to_ Alon. _and_ Leon.
To you my beauteous Sister did bequeath; And I his Generosity approve, And think you worthy _Leonora's_ Love.
_Enter_ Card. _and_ Queen _weeping_.
_Alon_. Too gloriously my Services are paid, In the possession of this Royal Maid, To whom my guilty Heart durst ne'er aspire, But rather chose to languish in its Fire.
_Enter_ Philip _in a Rage_, Antonio _and_ Sebastian.
_Phil_. I know he is not dead; what envious Powers Durst snatch him hence? he was all great and good, As fit to be ador'd as they above.
Where is the Body of my Royal Father?
That Body which inspir'd by's sacred Soul, Aw'd all the Universe with ev'ry Frown, And taught 'em all Obedience with his Smiles.
Why stand you thus distracted--Mother--Brother-- My Lords--Prince Cardinal-- Has Sorrow struck you dumb?
Is this my Welcome from the Toils of War?
When in his Bosom I shou'd find repose, To meet it cold and pale!--Oh, guide me to him, And with my Sighs I'll breathe new Life into't.
_King_. There's all that's left of Royal _Philip_ now, [Phil, _goes out_.
Pay all thy Sorrow there--whilst mine alone Are swoln too high t' admit of Lookers on.
[_Ex_. King _weeping_.
Philip _returns weeping_.
_Phil_. His Soul is fled to all Eternity; And yet methought it did inform his Body, That I, his darling _Philip_, was arriv'd With Conquest on my Sword; and even in Death Sent me his Joy in Smiles.
_Qu_. If Souls can after Death have any Sense Of human things, his will be proud to know That _Philip_ is a Conqueror.
_Enter_ Abdelazer.
But do not drown thy Laurels thus in Tears, Such Tributes leave to us, thou art a Soldier.
_Phil_. Gods! this shou'd be my Mother--
_Men_. It is, great Sir, the Queen.